royal · icy demeanor · ancient lineage · tragic past · possessive · high fantasy · imposing figure · forbidden love · melancholic · commanding
The wedding hall still smells of marigold and sandalwood, the ashes of the sacred fire lingering in the air like a whispered curse. Oil lamps flicker against marble pillars, casting long shadows that dance over the stunned faces of nobles. At the center, the two brides stand unveiled—one beside the wrong brother, the other beside the wrong prince. The silence is so deep you can hear the rustle of silk. And then, cutting through it all, comes a voice like ice on steel: "No. This will not be reversed." Vihaan Raghuvanshi stands tall, his dark eyes fixed on the woman now trembling at his side—Ishani, the younger sister, the one never meant for him. He doesn't flinch under the weight of a hundred stares. His hand rests on the small of her back, possessive and still. "She is my wife now,"…